


Cherry Coke

by is_this_you_manning_up_sammy



Series: Cherry Coke [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Mentions of alcohol, More will be added, Other, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-09 23:10:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16458827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/is_this_you_manning_up_sammy/pseuds/is_this_you_manning_up_sammy
Summary: You meet a particularly cute bartender on a Halloween October weekend, but you just can't bring yourself to ask for his number, so you strike up and steer the conversation to more casual. Your friends keep trying to encourage you to JUST ASK.





	1. Cherry Coke

**Author's Note:**

> I have a bunch of Marvel (and other fandoms) drabbles and pieces of fics in drafts and that will probably never see the light of day ever, but I hope that at least something short, fun and maybe even sexy like this can be read by you beautiful people. 
> 
> P.S. English is not my first language, so keep in mind that there might be mistakes in grammar or spelling. Also, please know that I am a full time student at a University, so updating this will take time, but this will most likely be a drabble series so.. it shouldn't take as much time as it would for a full chapter. There might be those in the future toward the end of this story anyway.
> 
> Enjoy! ♥

[(originally posted by @fallingpetals on Tumblr)](https://floatingpetals.tumblr.com/post/171949657375/from-serious-to-confused-to-adorable-puppy-all)

 

“I’ll just have a cherry coke, please,” you tell the bartender kindly, quickly looking over your shoulder to see where your small group of friends have led themselves to the crowded dance floor. You sit on the stool and make sure your friends look back and see where you are too.

It’s an October weekend at a famous local downtown club, loud music is pumping a weird remix of the Monster Mash and lights are flashing brightly and colorfully, but here at the bartop it’s relatively not that loud. Plenty of people are dressed in their Halloween outfits, some actually scary and some are pretty sexy costumes, but you were too tired to dress up at all, much to your friends’ dismay. You’re sporting a simple grey t-shirt underneath a dark blue hoodie, a simple pair of jeans and sneakers. Compared to everyone else, you guess you still stand out like a sore thumb either way.

“I’m guessing you’re a designated driver?” The bartender asks, catching your attention again as you turn back around. He has kind blue eyes, a dark, five o’clock shadow, and shoulder length hair. He swipes off the white towel from his shoulder and wipes the already clean countertop. You’re glad that it’s not sticky like in most other places.

“Yep,” you answer and you reach into your pocket to pay for the cold, canned soda he had set in front of you.

“No, it’s okay,” he says and shakes his head, softly pushing your hand with the dollar bills away. “Designated drivers get to eat and drink for free here.”

“Oh, well, in that case,” you wink at him, slipping the bills into a locked box reserved for tips. “I’ll have some fries too, please.”

“Thanks! Fries comin’ right up,” he winks back at you and you watch him for a bit as he walks away and attends the rest of the customers at the bartop.

“You should ask for his number,” a familiar, teasing voice says close to your ear. It’s doesn’t startle you at all, having grown used to Natasha’s sneaky habits. She huddles close to you and set’s down her costume night goggles beside your drink. She’s dressed as Catwoman, complete with a whip and latex suit, high heeled boots and all. She’s caught the eyes of many men soon as you all stepped out of your car and came in here, and you wouldn’t lie, but she caught your eye too. You weren’t blind to how beautiful she was.

“I am not going to ask for his number, Nat. Look at him. He probably gets asked all the time,” You laugh a little, both of your heads turning to watch him continue working.

He’s wearing the classic bartender, plain black shirt. His sleeves a little bit rolled up and tight around his thick biceps. He’s tall and definitely strong, nice to look at, but you’re not exactly great at flirting to the point of actually getting a phone number or going home with a stranger… You winked at him earlier! Where did that smooth flirtation and bravery come from anyway?

“Oh, come on. What’s the worst that could happen? He says no? And if he does, he’s an idiot, and I’d kick him in the head to realize he made a mistake for rejecting hot piece of ass like you,” Nat laughs, nudging you.

“Glad to know that’s how you see me, slut,” You roll your eyes and nudge her back.

“Bitch. Just ask him!” And with that, Nat grabs her goggles and leaves and soon as the bartender returns with a heaping, hot plate of fries.

“Anything else I can get you?” He asks, whipping the white towel back onto his shoulder.

“No, uh, I just have a quick question.”

You think about what Natasha said, and screw her for always being right about this type of stuff. Just ask him, plain and simple. You can handle rejection from strangers, no hard feelings and maybe you’ll never come back to this bar again, despite how fucking delicious these fries look. Ask him, cause if you don’t, Natasha will kick your ass, or worse, you’ll miss out on a good time with a nice guy.

Just.

Ask.

You look at him waiting for you to ask your stupid question. He’s got a nice smile, but it doesn’t help you take advantage of your clear opportunity.

“Why do designated drivers get to eat and drink for free?” You ask, and you want nothing more than for Natasha to come back and kick you in the head.


	2. Stalling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cute bartender and yourself keep talking for a bit, and you know it's just a stalling tactic but this way you just might actually get the nerve to ask him for his number. Meanwhile, Wanda and Natasha keep encouraging you and even give you a few helpful tips to get to the next step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should remind you again this is a Bartender!Bucky AU so mentions of alcohol and a bar-setting is a given. Although, the reader herself does not drink in the previous chapter, this chapter, and more than likely a few of the chapters to come.
> 
> Also, here are a few facts of some bar laws in the U.S., I think you should know about:  
> Last call is when the facility is advising they are going to stop serving alcoholic drinks soon. In New York, under state law, establishments must stop serving alcohol by 4 a.m., however the actual closing time is left up to each of New York's 62 counties. Some States are dry States, but some are dry by county. Some States also might not sell alcohol on Sundays or until after 12 p.m.

“Oh, um,” he starts off surprised at your question. It’s not one he would have expected. He tucks a lock of his hair behind his ear, thinking for a second of how to answer. “You know, most people just take advantage of the free food and don’t ask that very often,” he chuckles.

You notice how he leans on his elbows and clasps his hands, almost as if he’s giving you his full, undivided attention. His eyes are somehow bluer this close. All it does is make your heart race and smile shyly.

“The owner of this club is Tony Stark,” He begins. “Um, unfortunately, his parents passed away in a car accident caused by a drunk driver. Him and his wife, Pepper, are big advocates for anti-drunk driving campaigns and safe driving. Their goal is to reduce accidents here in the city and the rest of the country. That’s also why there’s always taxis, Uber’s, and Lyft’s outside.”

“Oh, that’s…” You knew about Tony Stark and that his parents passed in a crash, everyone did, but you didn’t know about the details of the accident. “That’s…” You can’t think of anything somewhat positive about the sad circumstances that started Stark’s advocacy for a healthier and safer city. Suddenly, you thought of another question. “Oh! Is that why there’s a cut off and earlier last-call than four A.M.?”

“Absolutely,” he nods. “Stark wants to keep this club clean but still fun, but he absolutely does not want people to get drunk and rowdy. Kicking somebody out because they get violent while intoxicated is not a good time at all, speaking from experience.” His eyes squint with a cringe a bit at the memories that flash through his mind but then he laughs and smiles wide nonetheless.

You don’t doubt at all that he is very much strong enough to handle people on his own. He must be very good at this job in more ways than one. And his smile and laugh? Holy. You feel a little more comfortable chatting with him now, even if it is about kicking people out of here.

The bar itself isn’t crowded with people as before, comparing it to at the start of the Halloween night. The bartop is made of smooth black marble with steaks of the natural pearly white in it, complemented with tall, metal stools softened with a classical dark red cushions. There’s a few people sitting on them on either of your sides, but still plenty of space in between you. The floors are a matching black tile, furnished with black booths also cushioned with the matching red. The DJ is at the far wall of the building, dressed as a skeleton that glows in the dark; he makes the lights flash at the drop of the beat in a song. It’s a very nice, high-end place, but also very safe and famous, which is why most of the crowd from all over the city come here and is still mostly on the dancefloor and getting there moves in for the spooky season.

The short pause creates an opportunity for him to excuse himself and step away for a moment to attend other customers, and you watch him again. He smoothly pulls out bottles of alcohol and serves drinks in a flash, making a show as he flips and spins glasses in the air and surprising the patrons. The customers pay him and off they go. He's crazy good at his job.

You take your eyes off him and enjoy your hot fries or take a few sips of your cold drink, circling the straw through the ice and swish the cubes around. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you pull it out to see both Wanda and Natasha have sent you a message in the group chat.

 **Wanda** ♥: _So I heard that you found a cutie_

 **Natasha** ♥: _Pull down your shirt a little, show the titties a bit!_ >;)

 **Wanda** ♥: _Don’t listen to her. You could just move your hair to the side and take off your jacket. Don’t hide under it!_

You laugh and shake your head and decide to go with Wanda’s advice. It is a little hot with your hoodie on, so you unzip it and take it off to put it on your lap instead. You look over your shoulder to see both of them watching you all the way from the dancefloor. Wanda gives you a thumbs up, and Nat wiggles her brows and shimmys her chest a bit to which you reply by giving the finger and roll of your eyes.

“Would you like a refill?” you get asked suddenly, and you turn around to see he's returned. Looking down to your glass, you see it's already less than half full, and you nod and thank him as he fills the glass again. “Did you have any more questions for me?” he asks, smiling and leaning on the bartop again.

“I do, actually.”

“Ask away.”

“How do you---”

“Hey! A little help here?” Another voice calls out and he turns his head to see one of the other bartenders struggling to carry plenty of clean glasses in a tray.

“Oh, for fuck's sake, Scott!” He immediately rushes over to help, scolding the panicked bartender that he shouldn't carry so many of the glasses at once and wondering out loud how many times he had to tell him that. They both get busy with putting the glasses away and then attending new customers.

“So, have you asked him yet?” Natasha sidled up next you once again, this time bringing Wanda with her, who nudges you from the opposite side.

“Oh no,” you groan, rolling your eyes. “Don't tell me Nat dragged you deeper into this, hon,” you whine to Wanda.

“Oooh,” Wanda giggles, linking her arm with yours and steals a few of your fries. You all take turns watching him work, so as to not make it so obvious. “Natasha was right, he is cute. And I'm just going to point out and ask, have you noticed you have a type when it comes to men? Tall, long hair, beard, big muscles? Sound familiar?”

“Shut up. Don't bring him up now,” you warn. “Can’t you two just go away and keep having fun and let me enjoy my fries?”

“No,” both ladies say teasingly in unison.

“We aren't leaving this club until you ask for his number,” Natasha says with a smirk, and you have a feeling she’s going to stick to that proposition.

“I… I don't know,” you sigh. “I need time, and we've only just got here half an hour ago! Asking for a number right away is creepy. We're just having a friendly conversation… you know, like what normal people do?”

“Hey, this place closes at two in the morning,” Natasha points out. “We have all night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to upload this chapter yesterday and the day before, but for some reason it wouldn't go up and then I refreshed and everything erased. lucky me. Then i figured out about troll emoticons
> 
> anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget this is going to be a major, major, slow, slow burn. Like... exaggeratedly slow. very slow

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this piece, would like for me to continue, have some advice, comment here or send me a message on Tumblr url: (@is-this-you-manning-up-sammy). I'd love to hear from you!


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